A note to little kids and prudes: don't read this story. Not only is it poorly written, it has a lot of dialogue – something grumpy old people (GOP) don't like – most of which has obscene language or is mature, despite being presented in an immature form. No bitching, please.

---

"The house, you see, cost-wise, is quite a steal…"

"Yeah?"

"Yes. And, uh, it's a very… comfortable house."

"Uh huh."

"At this price, we might as well be giving the house away."

"That's great. Very cool. But just get to the damn point, will you? How much does the house cost?"

"Well," Nook said, "I'll give it away for a mere 20,000 bells."

"How about a thousand bells?"

"No."

"Two?"

"No. 20,000."

"Three? Four? Five? You know, this house is smaller than my old house's bathroom. It's not even worth five hundred bells. It's not furnished. It has cobwebs. I think I saw a condom sitting in the toilet."

"There is no toilet."

"Exactly!" I said. "What the hell kind of house is that? Is there no plumbing? I'll give five thousand, and that's it. I feel like I'm getting ripped off here."

"I am not capable of pity."

"Are you, uh, down… dawg? Like, fo real and stuff? Uh… yo?"

"I am not capable of perpetuating ethnic stereotypes."
"Goddamnit, man, I'm going to shoot you and steal the damn deed! How about that?"

"I am pissing my nonexistent panties."

"I'll go buy a house from someone else, then."

"Good luck. I already ran them out of business.

GO MICROSOFT GO!

"Shit," I said. "I guess I'll take the damn house. Will you take my 2,000 bells as a down payment?"

"Definitely," Nook said, fangs hanging out of his mouth, "but first, you must go through a series of inane challenges."

"Why the hell should I? It's not like I'm getting the house for free. I'm paying you. Customers come first, right?"

"That would depend on how long the customer could hold it in."

"Horny bastard," I said. I frowned. "Well, what do I have to do first?"

"First," he said, hand down his nonexistent panties, "you must greet every villager. Even the ones in the mental asylum."

"That's fine. Even the mental asylum. I've already meant one of the members of the mental asylum anyway. Anything else?"

"Of course. Next, you must get me a date. And some butter."

"I suppose I could do that. What next, Marlon?"

"Get me some chocolate. I'm depressed."

"Fine. Is that it?"

"I suppose."

---

I could go into detail about the quests, but why should I? Short descriptions are less suicide-inducing to read anyway.

The mental asylum was pretty fun. I introduced myself thirty one times, even though there was only eleven people (not counting Nook).

The town was less fun. I got lost, bitten by mosquitoes, I dropped the soap, and most of my fellow villagers are complete assholes. I'm going to kill you, Freya, you bitch.

The date thing was easy as hell. All I did was go to the morgue and pick a body, and the guy working there already had a half-empty carton of butter. There was some short, thick hairs in there, and there was no bread nearby, but oh well.

I shat in a can and called it chocolate. It did taste like chocolate though.

But enough about that.

After I was done with those stupid quests, I went over to my best friend Jack's house for some beer.

"This sucks," I said. "I'm living in a village full of fucking talking animals. I have 18,000 bucks-"

"Bells," Jack said.

"Right. Bells. Well, I owe Tom fucking Nook 18,000 of those things, and there's no jobs. You're the only other human around. There's nothing to do. Fuck. Why did I move here again?"

"You were pretty drunk at the graduation party, remember? You pulled your pants down and did your porn star impression. Very convincing impression, by the way."

"Thanks."

"Then you said, 'If this isn't the most realistic woman orgasm you've ever heard, I'm gonna move to a village full of goddamn animals!' Then, uh, Paul one-upped you."

"He does an excellent female orgasm."

"True."

"Yeah. But why are you here?"

"Someone was sending my e-penis death threats. I can't take too many chances."

"That sucks. What's worse than all of that, though, is that there's no women around. Normally I'm like one of those emo pussies, talking about how women exist to be impregnated and like shitty movies, but damn. Being around all these fat animals makes me really appreciate human females. You know, the ones that don't have ten tits. I want to get laid, man."

"Stop bitching, Rich. You can get laid here, no problem. I just got laid a few minutes ago. Freya is such a minx."

Awkward silence. Jack and I stopped looking at each other.

"That's uh… wow. I… don't think you should've said that, man. I don't think we can hang out anymore. Or meet each other's glances."

"Yeah. I understand."

---

A few beers later, Jack and I were back on speaking terms. Temporarily.

"Nice house, man," I said. "Where'd you get this furniture? And wallpaper? Nice tile, too."

"Well," Jack began, "I went around doing errands for my fellow villagers, getting furniture as rewards, digging up ground under gold stars, catching and selling fish and any extra furniture, and prostitu-"

"Seriously?"

"Nah. I stole it all. Speaking of stealing, I was thinking about it and decided that this wallpaper totally clashes with this couch. Wanna go steal something from some animal's house tonight?"

"Sure," I said.

"Sorry to bring it up, but I would throw those clothes away. Immediately."

"Why?"

"Well, let's just say animal ass has been rubbed all over the couch you're sitting on dozens of times."

An autopsy would show that I hadn't eaten food that day, but I did. Want proof? Look at his rug.

---

Surprised? You're damn right you are. This story has bad words! OMG! And it talks about secks! Someone call the dream police!

I know this seems pretty pointless so far, but it'll get better later on. Seriously. Now, for the obligatory cheesy preview:

On the next episode of Anyone Got a Beer, Richard gets some furniture, a female human (!) moves in, more immature humor, more beastality, and more long strings of inane dialogue.